


Nemo

by elfcandy



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Porn, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfcandy/pseuds/elfcandy
Summary: There was one little fishy swimming in the seaTeasing Mr. Shark, you can't catch meAlong came Mr. Shark, as quiet as can beAnd snap.





	Nemo

**Author's Note:**

> Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.

_Breathe. Cupcakes, kittens...fuck they have sharp claws, I’m going to fucking kill this mother fucker._ Amano slammed her fists down on either side of her keyboard, and re-opened her interface. She was seated at her desk in the Nudle NY headquarters, the tall glass building jutting up into the sky sleek and transparent, allowing the harsh glare of the sun to fall against her monitor screen. It was an idiotic design for a technology firm, but for once she had other things occupying her thoughts.

“Yeah you like that, you fucker?” she taunted the computer under her breath.

‘ _NemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemoNemo_ ’

Her OS screen flashed her handle.

_‘We know who you are.’_

_Fuck._

She rubbed her spotty eyes and sucked in a breath, keeping all the emotions tucked into her shirt pocket like a prayer.

_Don’t lose it, don’t lose it. Not at work._

“Hey Amano...you okay?” Her friend Isaac asked, poking his head up over the sleek white divider. She clicked off her screen as he rounded the corner to stand behind her.

“Yeah, just…rebooting my computer” she mumbled lamely, waiving him away. Isaac was her best friend, but he was far too much a virgin in the way of breaking federal law to bare witness to her more illicit activities.

He seemed to accept it as an answer and plopped back down at his desk. “Kay, just let me know if you need anything. I'm not above playing intern to an upset friend.”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her, and bashed her screen back on with a grumble.

‘ _Samar Amano. Nemo. Nudle Headquarters, 111 8th Ave, NY 10011. ’_

_Double fuck._

‘ _So what is this, blackmail?’_

‘We want what _you want.’_

‘ _What? Who are you?’_

‘ _Dedsec. You know there’s something wrong with the way the world works. 2516 Mission St, San Francisco, CA 94110. Pick up the package.’_

The screen went black before she could reply, and her OS popped back up like it had all been nothing more than a brief daymare.

She tore away from her desk, snatching her coat and bag and beelining for the door.

“Hey what’s up?” Isaac called to her from his desk.

“Family emergency, I have to uh...go pick up my mom from the ER. She’s fine, just a sprained wrist” she lied lamely, storming past him. “Be back...later.” She felt bad lying to Isaac, but that didn’t matter right now.

“Uh sure, hope she’s okay!” he called after the woman as the sleek glass door slammed shut behind her.

—

And that’s how she ended up here, on this plane, flying down to SanFran. Like a naive child following a trail of jellybeans to a non-descript van. She justified it by convincing herself these people could blackmail her easily, or make trouble for her with the law. As if trying to befriend the bear was likely to help.

In truth, she was curious.

The person who'd baited her had been spot on. She had a good job, a mortgage that she'd be able to pay off in the next ten years, a squeaky clean CToS profile, family and friends that cared about her, and _one_ adorable dog. The nuclear nerd family of two. Yet the weight of the system weighed down on her. It's bureaucratic gears churning and pressing down on the backs of the less fortunate. It was specific yet bottom trawling about who it fucked, and yet few did little more than embrace the system as a cheating lover.

People could get used to anything. The less they thought about it, the more comfortable and familiar it became. Before long it was normal.

Just as it was normal not too long ago for people to wear hate on their sleeve. There was little difference now. Dark tendrils hidden deeper in the back alleys and gutters of society. Under the trench coat of the man who wore nothing else underneath, only to rip it wide open and leave people too shocked to speak up. Maybe you were mistaken, that couldn’t have been what they meant, it was only a question, it was only a joke, he must have been acting threateningly, what was she wearing, _did you really expect anything different_?

Amano understood the inequality of the world well enough. No stranger to being _randomly selected_ for a bomb test at every TSA screening. _Ha_. Like she’d jump on a plane right after building a bomb.

The chance to do something about it beyond the occasional vigilante hack was almost romantic, in a twisted gothic sort of way. Like Elliot from Mr. Robot being lured into the clutches of fsociety, only that was television and this was real fucking life. Sometimes it was hard for her to tell the difference. She couldn't help but wondering how a normal person would act in a situation like this, well, she knew they certainly wouldn't have take the bait...at least not so eagerly.

_I guess crazy attracts crazy like a magnet, birds of feather and all._

Her therapist, the stuffy middle aged gentleman with the email quote about planets and cosmic shit, had told her it was unhealthy to think of herself that way. She knew she wasn't nuts, for the most part, but she always felt as though she was on the outside looking in on the human condition.

It was kind of hypocritical for him to be giving her advice on healthy self identity anyways. After all, he was clearly a suppressing the fact he was a closeted homosexual, from all the kinky shit she'd found on his hard drive. Not that she was judging, Amano had unspoken truths of her own, but at least she was honest with _herself_ about them.

She had to stop doing that, prying, but every time she met somebody she got this itch to really know them. She wondered if other people ever felt this way, or if they garnered a sense of knowing somebody just by being with them. They seemed to almost have this sixth sense about them, like they could just tell what kind of people others were by the intricate twitches of their facial muscles, the pitch of their voice, or the resting state of their limbs.

Yeah, she'd given up on trying to figure people out on a surface level a long time ago. It was much easier to pry into their heads by way of a wooden horse and a Rootkit.

It made her empathize with Data. The cute android, and the binary ones and zeros. The idyllic world of the USS Enterprise had been her first introduction to the field of gadgets and gizmos. She remembered watching it between her umaah’s soap operas with wide eyes, immediately requesting a 'computer' the next day. To little Amano’s dismay it hadn’t been quite as capable as the ship’s, but the passion had been kindled, and hell if she hadn't turned that old beater of a laptop into one impressive lil’ machine.

_Wait, where had this thought train been going?_

She groaned, causing the sleeping businessman beside her to twitch mumble something incoherently. She was getting restless fingers and that would only fuel the anxiety in her head to unparalleled levels. If worrying was an Olympic sport, she'd be hot shit at it.

Amano pulled out her laptop and went to town. Sure she could have watched binged LOtR for the third time this month, but obsessively memorizing the lines that flowed from elven lips was unhealthy, she reminded herself.

She tapped her fingers like ghosts over the keyboard.

_What to do what to do._

The lack of wifi made her antsy, like an heroin addict going through cold withdrawal.

Amano settled on working the kinks out of a new bot script she'd started writing the week before. She'd be damned if she was going to meet a notorious blackhat group without at least going through a bit of their dirty laundry first.

It wasn’t long before she’d fallen asleep halfway through a line of code, head slumping onto her keyboard which left a pretty appropriate indent against the hacker’s forehead. She finally woke as the plane made it’s decent, ears popping her awake at the rapid change in pressure.

Amano clenched her jaw nervously as she exited the plane, the airline attendants humming pleasantries at the disembarking passengers.

_This was such a bad idea._

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally caved just a few hours of playing Watch Dogs 2 and started writing some Wrench stuff. My first introduction to the game was reading some beautiful smut by FancyLadySnackCakes, whose work I’m in love with. 
> 
> I’ll be slow to update, as I’m having a super difficult time getting into writing Wrench, and I’m knee deep in doing another series. As always, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism is super appreciated! <3 ;-)


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